Little West Mountain's Opportunity and Thunder Arts

Fang Shu stood in the ancestral hall, surveying the wreckage strewn across the floor. Something flickered in his eyes.

But this was no time to dwell on it.

He swept his sleeve and drew out a stack of talismans capable of sealing souls. Smack, smack! They landed on the bodies scattered across the floor.

The souls of the Four Limbs Temple menials at the Refining Essence stage were drawn into the talismans. The slips fell heavily onto the floor tiles like sodden strips of paper, twisted, blood-colored ghost faces surfacing on them.

As for Dai Kuan, the fifth-tribulation cultivator, Fang Shu stepped forward himself and cast a spell to wrench his soul from his skull.

A mass of black vapor appeared in Fang Shu's hand. It shifted constantly, taking the shape of a ghostly face and sending out divine sense.

The moment Dai Kuan's soul was extracted, he jolted awake from the daze of death and shrieked, "Searching souls and seizing spirits! You wicked cultivator!"

"Spare me... You dare take my soul? The Four Limbs Temple won't let you off, and neither will the chief steward!" He thrashed wildly, screaming without pause.

Fang Shu merely sneered at his struggling soul. "You're already dead. Why make such a racket?"

The urge to search Dai Kuan's soul on the spot flashed through his mind.

If these people had hidden any wealth in the residence, he could plunder it immediately. But after the thought circled through his mind twice, he pushed it aside.

Fang Shu used only the soul-sealing portion of the soul-searching spell on Dai Kuan, then stored his soul inside a talisman.

Dai Kuan had, after all, been a cultivator at the Refining Qi stage. His soul was entirely different from those of Refining Essence disciples and needed careful handling, lest